Wrapped in a gorgeous gown that clung <br />to parts of her that were primordial, <br />revealing halves of breasts that hung <br />suspended between chords that cordial <br />accompaniment enhanced, she played <br />as though she was the soloist. <br />No quartet rained on her parade, <br />with her you merely coexist, <br />for she’s the diva on which eyes <br />are focused, while the ears are drifting. <br />Experiences like these surprise <br />those men who don’t find breasts uplifting. <br /> <br />1/27/06<br /><br />gershon hepner<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/uplifting/
